


Sweetest Downfall

by ipona



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Chris cutting Victor's hair, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9240971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipona/pseuds/ipona
Summary: In the end, he and Chris are the same, maybe even too alike. Hard, sharp edges, fake smiles towards the crowd, a hidden fire burning underneath the cold surface. They're rivals, friends, and occasionally something more, something undefinable. Chris is soothing kisses in dark hotel rooms, a steady shoulder to cry on, and stolen moments when the world looks away.Pre-series. Viktor asks Chris to cut his hair. There are kisses and feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a thing that happened because evidently I can only write rarepairs and not my actual canon OTPs. Hopefully I'm not the only who likes seeing these two together pre-canon, though.
> 
> Needed to post it regardless, since I've been spending way too much time on this.

The November rain comes suddenly. It's as if the grey Moscow skies have opened over their heads. Viktor tugs at Chris' sleeve before taking his hand. His brown leather glove is warm and soft against Chris' skin. They run, together, seeking shelter from the rain.

It's getting late, but the drunken atmosphere between them still resides. Earlier in the day, they shared the podium at Russia's Grand Prix. Viktor had claimed the gold, of course, and Chris had taken his first silver medal at a Grand Prix event, and managed to qualify for his first final. Viktor had insisted they celebrate.

And so, here they are, bubbling with laughter, just a little bit tipsy, stumbling over the pavement to hide from the cold rain in a doorway somewhere in Moscow. It's Chris' first time in the Russian capital, but Viktor seems to know his way around well enough.

Viktor hasn't let go of his hand yet. Chris ignores that lately his heart has been beating just a little too fast around Viktor.

"Which way is the hotel?" he asks. Viktor just giggles, and Chris wonders if he misjudged just how much Viktor had to drink. Viktor leans against Chris, hiding his face in Chris' jacket.

"I don't know," comes the muffled reply between giggles.

"Viktor!" Chris sighs. "I can't even read these street signs!"

Viktor pulls back and smiles at Chris. He grabs Chris' other hand and pulls him into the rain again.

"We'll find our way," he smiles, dancing into the street, still with a firm grip on Chris' hands. There's not much traffic at this time of the night, and Viktor is so pretty in the yellow light from the streetlights. So Chris follows Viktor's little dance. The rain hits his face, but it doesn't bother him as much, not when Viktor dances them back to the hotel, smile on his face and hands clasped with Chris'.

They make it eventually. It's farther than Chris remembers, and when they finally reach the lobby, they're soaking wet. Viktor insists on coming along to Chris' hotel room instead of his own.

"We can have a slumber party!" is his reasoning behind it. Never mind that it's way too late, and that they both have planes to catch in the morning. So Viktor fetches dry clothes in his own room, before he comes to Chris'. As he comes into the room, he seems almost completely sober, so maybe Chris just can't read Viktor as well as he thought he could.

He sits down on Chris' hotel bed, his long hair wet against his chest and shoulders, wetting the plain white t-shirt he has put on. There's this smile on his lips, one that Chris can't seem to figure out. Absentminded, almost a bit sad. Hands brush through wet hair, trying to detangle it from the mess it's become after their run through the rain. He's beautiful, and it's not Chris' intention to stare, it really isn't.

"Chris." His name always did sound better when spilling from Viktor's lips. "I've been thinking about cutting my hair."

Chris sits down next to him on the bed. "Why?"

Viktor just shrugs. It's such a simple motion, but there's something so graceful behind it. It's Viktor after all. He leans back on the bed, long hair pooling around his head on the crisp sheets. Then his face cracks up in a grin.

"Well, your short hair is so sexy, so I thought I should try it too."

Chris snorts, playing it cool while inwardly wondering if maybe Viktor was just a little bit serious with that remark.

"Well, obviously," he laughs, giving Viktor a couple of silly, sexy poses before crashing down next to him. He turns his head to look at Viktor's profile. The easy laughter has died down to that strange, melancholic smile again, and his eyes are examining the ceiling. "And what's the real reason?"

Viktor's eyes close for a moment, as if he's thinking.

"I want to surprise everyone at the Grand Prix final," he says at last. "And I don't think I can remember not having long hair. So that has to shock people, right?"

"Yeah," Chris answers hesitantly. "But your hair is so beautiful, Viktor."

"Really?" Viktor turns his head to look at Chris.

Chris raises an eyebrow as he meets Viktor's gaze. "As if you don't already know that."

"Didn't know you found me beautiful." The smile on Viktor's lips is getting wider, and Chris finds it hard to keep eye contact as Viktor rolls to turn his entire body towards Chris.

God, he is beautiful.

When Chris doesn't answer, Viktor continues.

"Why don't you cut my hair, Chris?" Viktor sits up and collects his hair behind his back. He motions to the back of his neck. "Right about this length."

"What makes you think I can cut hair?"

"Can't be that hard, right? And if you mess up, I'll just go to a hair dresser instead."

"Alright," Chris sighs and shakes his head. Viktor's mind works in ways differently from others, and Chris has given up trying to understand him all the time. "And where are we getting scissors from?"

Viktor grins as he rises from the bed and goes to grab something from the small table just inside the door. Chris hadn't even seen that Viktor brought something.

"I came prepared," he says with a smile, showing the scissors to Chris. "I thought of cutting it yesterday, shocking everyone today. But I think I got sentimental."

"I think I might get sentimental too," Chris sighs as he takes the scissors from Viktor. If Viktor heard, he's ignoring it.

They sit down on the bed, Chris with his back leaning against the wall, and Viktor scooting up between his legs. Viktor has managed to detangle his hair a bit, and it's still damp as Chris runs his fingers through it.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"Really, really sure?"

"Yes!" Victor slaps a hand down on Chris' thigh and laughs a little. "Yes, I'm really, really sure."

"Okay, okay. I just don't want to be the one Yakov kills when you regret this."

He gathers Viktor's hair, and feels Viktor's hand squeeze his thigh.

"Here we go."

And in a few choppy cuts with the scissors, Viktor's long ponytail is severed from the rest of him. Viktor is still squeezing his thigh as he looks back a Chris. Chris shows him the ponytail. The look on Viktor's face in unreadable. Running his hands through his now much shorter hair, he remarks:

"This is so weird..."

"Let me just even in out a bit."

Chris has never cut anyone's hair before, but by some sort of miracle, he doesn't think it looks half bad when he's done. Viktor gets up, finding the closest mirror, and Chris follows him.

"Not too bad, right?" Chris smiles.

"No," Viktor smiles back. "I'm still going to a hair dresser when I get back to St. Petersburg, though."

"I'm hurt!" Chris exclaims in a joking tone, but Viktor just hugs him, burying his face in his neck.

"Thank you, Chris." Chris just lets his arms wrap themselves around Viktor's waist, squeezing him back. As they let go, Chris grins at him.

"Now you can be as sexy as I am," he jokes, and Viktor laughs.

"Never in a million years. Christophe Giacometti is forever the sexiest man in figure skating!"

Hearing Viktor say that, even as a joke, fills Chris with warmth. Chris is full of doubts, in himself, in his image. He's just now, at eighteen, finding himself, his body, and his skating style. He's not made the same sort of career as Viktor, who was a shooting star from the start. He has his fair share of fans, mostly from Switzerland, but it's nothing compared to Viktor.

So he rolls his eyes, then yawns.

"It's getting late. Do you want to go back to your room?"

"We're having a slumber party, remember?" Viktor pouts almost childishly, and Chris can't help smiling. The man is twenty years old, for fuck's sake. Yet, he's probably the cutest person Chris has ever met.

"Alright."

They brush their teeth before heading to the bed. Viktor claims the side closest to the wall. Pulling the covers up to his nose. He watches Chris with those sky-blue eyes. Chris can't help feeling self conscious under his gaze. He slips into bed next to him, choosing eye contact with the ceiling instead of Viktor.

"What is it like?" he asks. "The Grand Prix final, I mean."

"The first time? Nerve-wrecking." Chris glances at Viktor, and his face is serious. "You're going to feel like the world is on your shoulders, like you're being crushed under the pressure."

"That's nice," Chris tries in a joking tone, but Viktor just ignores him and continues.

"But when you get past that, it's the best thing there is. You're there, on top of the world, with the best people in your sport. It's exhilarating."

Chris is quiet for a while, not knowing what to say.

"I'm glad I get to share it with you," he says, finally. "Having a friend there might take some of the pressure off."

"I mean, I'm still going to crush you." Viktor smiles. "But gently."

He puts his hand on the side of Chris' neck, letting his thumb caress his cheek gently. The warmth of his palm is soothing, gentle, almost... loving?

"We'll see." Chris smiles. The eye contact lingers, as does Viktor's warm touch. The world blurs together, and Chris isn't sure when he falls asleep.

 

***

 

It's a strange feeling. Viktor has had his hair long almost for as long as he can remember. It's come to the point where it doesn't even bother him anymore, not even when it's in his eyes at the most awkward of moments. His hair has always just been there, an extension of himself.

And now, every flick of his head feels too light, like something's missing. But he's glad he asked Chris to cut it. It's been a few years since they met now, but lately Chris has become the closest friend Viktor has ever had. Cutting his hair is supposed to mean something. Turning a page, changing chapters. And though he sometimes feels all alone in the world, Chris somehow keeps the loneliness at bay like no one else he knows.

He can't seem to fall asleep, so he looks over at Chris' sleeping form. The short blond locks are tousled and every time he takes a breath, it comes out as a soft snore. Viktor smiles, and lets his hand caress Chris' face again. It's a pretty face, if Viktor's ever seen one. He can't remember ever giving himself the time to reflect over such things before. But Chris is pretty, with green, innocent eyes behind long eyelashes. His skin always seems to have a golden glow, and is soft to the touch.

It feels so good to touch Chris' soft skin. The hard ice under his skates and the cold gaze of the world have been his closest friends for as long as he can remember, and for something to be so soft and warm under his palm fills him with something he can't quite place. He lets his hand run through his own hair and he considers the new and unusual feeling. He decides that this is a night for new things. So he leans down, putting one hand on each side on Chris' head, and presses their lips together in a soft kiss.

Green eyes flutter open and a sleepy gaze meets Viktor's as he pulls away. Chris' eyes widen, and a hand, on instinct it seems, comes up to touch his own lips.

"Wha-?" He lets out a questioning sound. Viktor leans closer again, and it's as if butterflies flutter in his belly.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs, his hand coming up to rest on the side of Chris' neck. He can't help but stare at Chris' lips. They're plump and pink and soft and suddenly the only thing in the world that Viktor can think about is kissing them again. Chris' cheeks turn pink, and his eyes widen, but at last he nods. Viktor has a smile on his lips when he closes the distance between them. This time Chris returns the kiss, if tentatively at first.

Despite the reputation that's been built around him, as a player, a flirt, a heartbreaker, Viktor doesn't allow himself these pleasures very often. It's just that when he does, people seem to fall in love. Viktor has yet to fall in love with anything but his skating. Chris seems to be like that as well. So when they kiss, Viktor lets his mind go blank.

Soft skin under his fingertips, plump lips moving against his own, Viktor allows himself to fall, to lose control. There's a spark between them, and soon Viktor feels Chris' hands on his waist, pulling him close. Viktor straddles him. They're pressed close together, and Chris' hands wander, feeling their way under Viktor's loose t-shirt. Clever fingers run over Viktor's back and sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before growing bolder, creeping lower.

Chris presses their hips together, hands on Viktor's ass, and Viktor gasps, breaking their kiss for just a moment. Attaching himself to Chris' neck instead, Viktor decides to slow it down a bit. He presses long, open-mouthed kisses to Chris' throat. He feels the vibrations of his voice against his lips as Chris moans quietly. He has such a nice voice, which is yet one more thing that Viktor hasn't even considered before.

"Victor-" Chris murmurs his name, and Viktor continues to press longer and harder kisses to his neck, determined to draw more of those sounds from the man beneath him. "Mm, ahh-"

Then, Chris' fingernails rake down his back with a delicious sting, before working lower again. Chris' touch drop to Viktor's ass, squeezing, pulling him closer. It's like electricity is flowing through Viktor's veins, and when Chris does it again, he hides his face in Chris' shoulder and moans, surprising even himself with how little it takes for him to start falling apart.

Soft lips trap him in a sweet kiss once again. It's so gentle he wants to cry, and Viktor takes Chris' face in his hands. Thumbs run over his cheeks, caressing soft skin. Their pace goes lazy, calm once again. There's a quiet yearning in the pit of Viktor's stomach, and the warm closeness of Chris is just what he needs. It's not much, but it's just enough.

They stay like this, until the pale morning light peeks in through the window. Chris' lips are swollen as Viktor pulls back to look at him. A ray of sunshine hits his face. His eyes are wide, impossibly green in contrast to the pink blush of his cheeks.

Chris' giddy smile turns into a giggle.

"Maybe we should get some sleep, before-"

Viktor doesn't feel like listening to the rest of what he was going to say. He cuts him off with yet another kiss.

"Mmm," he hums against Chris' lips. "I don't want to."

He can feel Chris smiling into the kiss.

In the end, he and Chris are the same, maybe even too alike. Hard, sharp edges, fake smiles towards the crowd, a hidden fire burning underneath the cold surface. They're rivals, friends, and occasionally something more, something undefinable. Chris is soothing kisses in dark hotel rooms, a steady shoulder to cry on, and stolen moments when the world looks away.

What they have is enough to soothe, to keep the loneliness at bay. But it's not enough to last beyond these shared, quiet moments.


End file.
